


In the Bayou

by EnforcerofTyrestsAft (orphan_account)



Series: To keep me busy [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I'm taking a few things from the Swampman movie and crypid, Not a robot, Oh sht the DjD are here, also Soundwave is a cryptid in this, this is gonna be a ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/EnforcerofTyrestsAft
Summary: I've read a few things about Swampman Soundwave, and now I wanna kiss him.Hope you guys enjoy.Also, a lot of mystery, hopefully that you guys enjoy as well
Relationships: Soundwave/Reader
Series: To keep me busy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1197820
Comments: 14
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

It was in the Autumn of 1982, Mississippi, when the leaves were just turning brown and the air gained a slight chill when you received a letter.

It had been brown, a coffee stain on the edge of it and barely legible writing; but it was made out to you all the same. Your mom was quiet when you had taken it from her, you didn't blame her, mostly because the sender had been from your Aunt. 

And the last you heard from her, it had been a nasty fight between her and your dad. 

Still, it hurt when you looked at her name. She had been kind, a bit off sometimes, but kind. As you brushed a thumb against the letter, you shoot a questioning glance to your mom.  
"It was found in her desk." Your mom answers quickly, sitting down next to you as you finally opened it.  
"She died three months ago." You find yourself saying, voice dry. "Shouldn't this have been in the will?"  
And you knew what your mom was going to say, a small bit of anger wilding up in your chest. 

Oh, you know damn well much your dad had hated your Aunt; but you didn't expect him to keep something so small from you. 

At your expression, your mom gives a soft sigh. 

"You know how he is. Stubborn." She says, eyebrows knitting together as she watched you take out the letter and open it up.

It takes reading the words, then re-reading them to register what they said. She had left you the house, her house. Out in the bayou of South Carolina.  
You silently hand it over to your mom, her mouth opening a tiny bit as she slowly takes in the words as well.  
Then she smiled, and gave the smallest laugh.  
"She really did love messing with your dad." Is all your mom says, folding up the letter again.  
"Is this serious?" You breath out, as you take the letter back from her. 

Your mom nods, breathing out another sigh. 

"I know it wasn't easy for you, to lose her like that." She begins, and you can feel yourself tense. 

It had been.

Your Aunt was a safe place, out in the wilderness of South Carolina, in her small cabin in the woods. With her pine-tree smell and warm hugs that easily took away everything bad.  
Smiling at the memory of her soft voice and strong arms, you give a smile to your mom.  
"It was. But." You pause, biting your lower lip.  
"I want to go. If she left the house to me, I want to go."  
This gets your mom's attention, as she raised a brow at that. "Are you sure? It's a long ways from home…" she grumbled, a pout that has you smile grow a bit.  
"I want to go, momma. I know it's a long trip, but. I want to go, just stay there for a while." 

Your mom seems to think it over, giving you a long look, before nodding.

"As long as you call every week. Or whenever. I don't wanna know you got eaten by somethin' on the news like your friend in Florida." Now, that had you laughing.  
"Momma, I'll be fine, and I'll call you too." You say, getting up from the chair.

Your mom nods, a sad look in her eyes as she helps you find a suitcase. 

"You be mindful of the things that live out there, little one." She says, "You respect them, and-" "They respect you. I know, I know." You finish, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you tug the suitcase from the closet and go up the stairs to your room.  
You knew your mom understood why you wanted to go, why you were so ready to get away from home.

But it wasn't her, wasn't her you were running from.

She helped you fold your clothes up, taking a pair of mud boots and a scarf. "Take the taser with you as well." Your mom added, pressing it into one of your free hands.  
You give a nod, as she wraps the scarf around your neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead.  
"Make sure to tell Dad after I'm gone." You say, your mom nodding as she helps you load up your car.  
"You could always tell him yourself… " she says, but you didn't want to get into the reasons of why you didn't want to.  
"It'd be better if you did it." You say, leaving out a few choice things before you went back inside the house to grab your purse.

As you put it in the passenger side, your mom takes you up in a hug. 

"It'll get better." She says, pressing the letter into your hand as she lets go. Pressing one last kiss to your forehead, you nod and get into the car.

"I love you." You say, starting it up. The engine purrs happily, and you hear your mom say the same as you pull out of the drive and head East.

It was a soddy plan, you knew this, but as you watched your mother fade into the distance, you knew it was the right choice.

No matter who you left, getting to the house was the plan. You'd think about the rest when you got there.


	2. Chapter 2

_ "Little one, you mustn't run off like that." Your Aunt scolded, scooping you up in her arms. She smelled like she always did, fresh pine and something else. _

_ You were never sure what that something else was, just the pine stood out to you, but it was her all the same. _

_ Aunt always tucked you close when you were just a little too far from your sight, as if something could swoop down and steal you away. _

_ Then again, she did tell you of the things that lurked beneath the murky water. _

_ "But I was playing with my friend." You say, pouting into her shoulder as she rubbed your back. _

_ "Well, you should tell them to not play so close to the water. God knows what could reach up and grab you." Aunt replied. _

_ "But he doesn't like leaving the water."  _

_ Your Aunt stops in her tracks, her touch stilling.  _

_ Breathing out a sigh, she sets you down onto the wet ground, taking your smaller hands in hers. _

_ Her face still wears a smile, but her eyes have something odd in them, something that makes you shuffle in place.  _

_ "Does your friend try to bring you into the water?" She firmly asked, and sighs when you shake your head. "Good, good."  _

_ But she pauses when she spots the black band around your tiny wrist.  _

_ You beam up at her, shaking her grasp off of you to show her. "He made me this today! It's really pretty!" You say, showing her the tiny details on it. Your Aunt is frowning now, softness forgotten. "I." She begins to say, turning her head to the water.  _

_ She's quiet for a long time. _

_ "Let's go make some pancakes, little one. Then you can tell me all about your friend." You laugh at this, grinning a silly grin as she pressed a kiss to your cheek and heaved you back into her arms as she hurried back into the house.  _

_ Looking over your shoulder, your friend lifts an arm to wave goodbye, and you return it. _

_ Maybe you can bring him some pancakes when your Aunt isn't looking. _

__

* * *

Waking up from sleeping in the backseat of your car isn't the most thrilling experience.

Your neck feels sore as all hell, making slow progress to rise up in the seat. At least you can say you made some progress, out of the Mississippi State line and into Alabama. 

You did admit taking a break on the side of a long road with the doors locked probably wasn't a good idea, but you didn't regret it as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and unlock the backdoor to get out of the car and into the front. 

Your right leg feels like lead from all the driving, but you'd make another stop once you hit Montgomery. 

Sighing as you start up the car once more, you pull it off of the side and continued on your way.

  
  


The way to the capitol of Alabama was mostly uneventful, other than taking in the sights and whatnot.

'At least the drivings easy.' you think, pulling into a gas station. Filling up your car, you thought back on the dream you had.

It was more like a memory, something about the Bayou where your Aunt used to live. It felt like a mental block, but you could remember cold hands wrapped around your own, then smell of musty water…

Something warm fills your chest, a tightening sensation of what felt like anxiety. 

Looking down at your wrist, you feel almost naked when there isn't anything there. 

But you remember that bracelet you never took off when you were young; until your father had almost angrily ripped it off and threw it in the trash.

It was the first time he had been angry with you, and started the hatred of your Aunt.

Sighing as you recall the memory, you finished up fueling your car, pay and look for somewhere to get some breakfast. 

_ Gail's _ looks good, small diner with a few people already inside.

  
  


It's a nice place, the foods good and you quickly pay the bill and get back on the road again. And try as you might, you still can't get the dream out of your head; nor the thoughts of your father. 

You remember the day he was angry, then the month, then it went on for years and years. 

You didn't know if he was angry with you, never raised a hand but his voice was always loud. 

When you were home late, or when you wanted to go over to a friend's house. 

At first, you wondered what happened to the man your father used to be, but you can't even remember him. 

Just the man he became when he saw the bracelet on your wrist that day.

Sighing, you feel your eyes grow a bit heavy. It wasn't with sleepiness, more like something that had to do with too much stress. Stress of your father, worrying about your mom…

Pressing your lips in a thin line, you focus on the road ahead of you. 

After all, there's only 460 miles before you reach Charleston.

  
  


* * *

  
  


_ "I don't want her going back there." Your father's voice is cold, eyes even colder. He holds you tight, body shaking as he looks at your mother. "Honey, it's going to be alright." Your mother tries, hands clasped in front of her. _

_ Your Aunt is quiet, looking out the window cooly.  _

_ "If you're planning on controlling her for the rest of her life, she's going to run away." Your Aunt says, sparing a glance at your father.  _

_ He scoffs at that, finally setting you down and pushing you towards your mother. _

_ "Take her to her room." Was all he said, and you feel a trembling hand on your shoulder as your mother guides you upstairs. _

_ "Momma, why is Daddy mad?" You whisper, your mom helping you up the last step. _

_ Your mother shakes her head, lips tight as she takes you to your room. "He's not mad, baby. Just...he needs some time to himself." That sounded like he was mad to your small ears, but you frown as you're tucked into bed. _

_ "How come he took my bracelet away? My friend gave it to me?" You asked, as the covers were tucked around you.  _

_ Your mother shakes her head, eyes soft as she pressed a kiss to your forehead.  _

_ "I'll tell you when you're older, alright."  _

* * *

  
  


It's almost night when you hit Atlanta, a long ways from where you started, (if you added the snack/bathroom breaks as well as a little sightseeing). You knew so much driving wasn't good, despite the pit stops, but you needed to rest and stopping in Atlanta was as good as anything. 

Looking around for a hotel to stay in, you give thanks to whoevers watching out for you when you spot one; and pull into it.

It's a little cheap, but the rooms nice and thankfully doesn't smell like mold.

After checking the bed, you go get your suitcase and flop down onto the bed. It strunk you on how tired you are as you fall asleep almost instantly, the comfortable bed allowing easy resting.

  
  


It's a dream that wakes you up in the middle of the night, cold sweat on your back as you jolt off of the bed and press a hand to your chest. 

Cold hands, a voice, two, then three. It was about the last time you were at your Aunt's house. You had been 13 at the time, anger in your chest when you had been told this was the last time you'd be coming here. 

You remember being so angry, eyes wet as you try to stop crying.

Then, you were wrapped up in wet arms. 

You don't know who was holding you, only that they were your size and they were murmuring something to you. 

It was nice, their voice. Something brushes against your leg, the sounds of birds singing overhead and a purr that sounded like it was from a cat. 

"I don't want to leave you." You remembered saying, holding onto the body in front of you. It was wet and slimy, almost. But it had a firmness to it, a warmth despite it feeling so cold.

You smelled musty water, wet miss sticking to your face as you were held close.

But when you pulled away…

Running a hand through your hair, you walk to your bathroom and splash some water on your face. 

'It was just a dream." You thought, taking in your tired eyes and pale face. 'Just a dream.'

Blinking your eyes a few times, you make your way back to bed and try to go to sleep again.

And hopefully when you woke up, you wouldn't be as rattled at you are now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if I wouldn't add the DjD to this.
> 
> As if I wouldn't make them fair folk.

Thankfully there are no more mishaps when you wake up in the morning. Just a case of bedhead and a slightly sore throat, both of which are easy fixes.   
You change into a fresh set of clothes, as well as freshen up in the bathroom, before making your way to the front desk to turn in your hotel key.  
The woman running the front desk is kind, taking the key from your hand with a smile and a thank you. 

But it quickly simmered down when she glances behind you.

Turning your head to follow her line of sight, you find yourself almost gaping unflatteringly at the person behind you.  
Now, it wouldn't have been so weird, seeing a man as tall as he was, if not for the masquerade-esqu mask covering half of his face.

He almost looks like a Phantom of the Opera stand-in, but before you could take in any of his details further, you quickly step away from the desk so that he can move forward.

Only to almost back up into a man with a snarling dog on a leash.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" You say, flinching away from the dog's glinting fangs. The man just smiles, one that doesn't seem to fit his face somehow.   
"It's alright," he starts, teeth too white as he then gives a low laugh.   
"Pet just doesn't like it when people get too close to me, is all."  
His words shouldn't send electricity down your spine, but they do. 

"Kaon, if you're done exchanging pleasantries." A rich voice cuts in, making you jolt and turn your head once more to meet the eyes of the masked man. 

His eyes are a deep brown, almost black, with a sneer on his lips that was definitely directed towards you.   
It's off putting, seeing as you've never met the strange man in your entire life, but his sneer makes you want to curl up in fear. Thankfully, he strolls past you without another look, his friend (?), Kaon, giving you another gleefully smile as he follows close behind him.   
His pet gives a parting growl, but doesn't put up a fight as the three leave. 

Blinking, you sigh and make your way back to your room without any other…  
Knitting your brows together, you rest your head against the door to your room. 

Just what were you thinking about again?

Brushing away the thought with a frown, you lean away from the door and enter your room and start to pack up; not that you have much to do such.

After hulling everything to your car, you turn your head to release some stress from it, only to almost hit your head on the trunk of your car when you see someone walking up to you.

The closer he gets his dog growls louder, very off-putting when the man is smiling brightly at you.  
Thick black sunglasses cover his eyes, but his Auburn hair obscures them a bit, but you pause in your observation of him when he holds something out to you.  
"I'm sorry to have startled you," the man begins, "but you seemed to have dropped something."   
He holds out your…  
You raise a brow at what he's holding, mostly because you could have sworn you had put your car keys in your purse.  
"Thank you…" you slowly say, trying not to panic as you accept the keys from his grasp. 

His dog gives a sharp growl, something bigger forming in it's chest. But as quickly as it starts, the man makes an odd clicking noise in the back of his throat; one that slices throught the dog's temper.  
"It's no problem, little one." The man assured, tilting his head just so his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose slightly.

Just enough for you to see empty sockets leering right at you.

Jolting backwards and just barely catching yourself on the side of your car, you can only gape as the man takes a step towards you, only to be stopped when a hand places itself on his shoulder.

"Kaon, Tarn says we gotta go." The new arrival says, a male so tall enough to block out the sun and a body wide enough that he could encompass you without much effort.  
Thankfully, he pays no attention to you as he tugs the other man and his dog away.   
You simply watch as the two bicker in a quiet tone, and you yourself quickly pack up the rest of your luggage and get into the car.   
But you're not fast enough when you hear a loud, "You already have one pet, you don't need another, Kaon." From the taller of the two men.

The words are enough to have you hurriedly start your car and rush out of the hotel parking lot; and onto your next destination.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've done anything with this fic, but I'm gonna get back on it and at least finish part one of this idea out. 
> 
> I'm going to be updating it most Fridays, and then I'm going to be moving on to my Tarantulas fic to finish up that one as well, on Fridays as well. 
> 
> Hope you guys like the slight suspense!

Getting to the next destination was easy enough. But you think it has to do with you almost being in a daze as you take the next turnpike and the wide road in front of you. it was probably one of the reasons that you didn't notice your needed gas until your grants down at the gas gauge to see that you were at 1/3 a tank. Fighting back against a facepalm, you groan as you count your blessings that there wasn't much traffic around because… you pause in your musings and for the first time you look up at the slowly setting sun and darkening sky. 

"Oh what the hell." you hear yourself say, but sigh in relief when you spot a gas station not too far ahead.

What you didn't expect was it to be completely empty of people. 

Well, not completely, mind you.

You did spot one car, an old, purple,beat up thing that probably belonged to the person Manning the cash register. The sight makes you want to try to see if there was another gas station, but your gas gauge says different. As you pull up to the gas station to fill up your car, you feel a chill go up your spine as overhead light that lit up the place lazily flickered.

A sense of paranoia doesn't leave you until you go into the pay for the gas. 

And just like a snap, the feeling was gone. You feel a sense of calm, replacing the paranoia, and make your way up to the cashier counter.

And had to do a double-take when you see a dog at the register, instead of a person.

While adorable beyond belief, you walk up to it carefully; only to be promptly startled by a voice ringing out from below the counter. “I’ll be right with you in a moment!” The voice in itself is cheerful, if not for the low rumble, (close to a growl), like accent that had you feeling the words deeply in your chest. It was an odd feeling, but easy to wave off as nothing as a man rose up from behind the counter. 

You find yourself flush a bit at the sight of him.

He’s taller than you expected, with tan skin, dark hair with deep blue eyes to match. A scar trails up from underneath his chin; and dark blue feathers are braided into his hair, just behind his ears. The man clears his throat and casts down a smile at you. 

A glint of a fang catches in the dim lighting of the room, but it quickly disappears as he rather quickly seals his lips. You only manage to say something out of sheer will of not coming off as rude, and put on a small smile yourself. 

“Uh, sorry.” You give a slightly strained laugh. “There wasn’t a sign outside, and I was wondering how much it was to fill up?” The man perks up at that, his smile that had once been fading back with full intensity. 

Sparing a glance downward, you manage to catch an eyeful of his nametag, partially blocked by the now panting dog still on the counter.

‘T.C’

It was obviously a nickname, but it put your mind at ease to at least know the mans’ name. And the fact that he knew the gas price. But it was strange, not how he told you the price easily, but the fact that his smile...well, it never left his face. It thinned his lips, made his cheeks go pink by how much he was forcing it, like he thought you would be calmed by the fact of it.  Unfortunately for him, you couldn’t help but nervously continue to smile back as you see that glint of fang again. The dog, whose name you still did not know, was picked up and set onto the ground as you dug through your purse to retrieve the money needed. 

You hesitated, only ever so slightly, as you went to hand T.C. the money. His smile is less bright now, more real as he goes and clicks on the gas pump. 

“Hope you have a safe trip to Carolina now!” T.C. instantly face-palms as he mumbles ‘We had one job, Buster!’ when you gave him a bewildered look and hurriedly made your way back to your car. You feel something crawling up your spine, like electricity as you pull the gas pump out with a little more intensity that the act required. Never allowing yourself to look away from T.C, he seems to do the same. 

But what scares you the most, was not his eyes, but the fear in them. He looks around as you wish for the gas-gauge to say you were finished, but the electrical feeling comes again. 

Fear. You’re afraid. You’re so very afraid because T.C. is looking around furiously now and he is scribbling something down. 

The temperature seemed to have dropped considerably during your time inside the store, but you only feel the feeling of sweat going down your back. Something was out here with you, the back of your throat tightening with the threat of bringing whatever up when T.C. presses a piece of paper to the window. Strangely, you can hear Buster going crazy inside the shop, but the growling you now hear is nothing like that. Dread is like a hand on your shoulder as the gas-gauge goes off and you replace the nozzle to its place. 

You don’t want to turn around, because you can see what T.C. wrote down. 

‘Don’t look back.’

_ ‘Don’t look back.’ _

So you don’t. But something wants you to, desperately. It demanded it, but you use your hand to guide your way and make your way to the drivers’ side of the car. Slamming the door shut, you drive like a bat out of hell and speed away from the gas station. The feeling is thankfully fleeting as you drive away, but you feel your eyes sting. Sniffing, you focus on the road ahead and hope to at least see a motel or hotel along the way.

Even if it was almost mid-day, you needed rest. Sighing and leaning back in your seat, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. 

There was a thought of just giving up and going back home, but your Aunt wouldn’t have and you weren’t either. She left you a house, and not boogieman, or strange people were going to stop you from getting to your goal. 


	5. In came the lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Li-t-tle iris, s-o fa-r from ho-me.” He sings.
> 
> (There is a vomit mention, but doesn't happen.)

Nervousness took over you when you reached a motel.

Traces of the electricity were still in your veins even as you checked in, the man manning the front giving you an odd look as he handed you your room key. You could only imagine what looked like right now, eyes wide with fear and hands shaking. Still, it was nice to be somewhere where you didn't feel like you were possibly going to die. Shaking off all thoughts of the gas-station and the after feelings of dread, you run a hand through your hair and set your purse on the bed and start to strip.

Just as you do that, you look at the front door to your room, hesitate for a second, and then go to lock it.

If your gut says to do it, it must be a good idea, you think and ignore the sense of paranoia that has seemed to fill you as you drew nearer to your destination.

It does little to ease it, but you hop into the shower all the same after that and scrub your skin until your mind goes numb and you feel something other than scared. It still seemed to want to strangle you, but it trails off and down the drain and you decided it's time to dry off. Sighing as you wrap yourself in a towel and debate getting some clothes from your car, you decide to see how much money you have left before you had to call it quits and just sleep in your car. And while you did have enough to get you to your Aunt's house, and for food and gas, you settle on just driving as much as you can and not stopping until you needed food or gas.

Biting you lip, you quietly put back on the clothes on the floor and pull back the covers on the bed, before settling down. Today and parts of yesterday hadn't been even remotely good, and even if you doubt it, a good nights rest would do you well. Laying on your stomach and closing your eyes, you slowly but surely drift off into rest.

Unfortunately, you still felt a tiny bit nervous even as you drift to sleep.

* * *

* * *

_ The fog in front of you was thick, too hard to see in front of you as you trudged in whatever muck you were in. You didn’t dare look down, in fear of what was coating your thighs and simply decided to move forward. _

_ Biting your lip to conceal a whine, you wrap your arms around your chest as you turn your head right, then left.  _

_ And while fog had never done wrong to you, even on the road, you find yourself quickly hating it as you push on. The muck seems to be getting lighter, but thicker if you even think of stepping out of the path. A path, your mind quickly thinks, to guide you to what? Death seemed like an option, but its’ brushed off quickly as you make out a figure just a few feet in front of you. Death could still be an option, you conclude, as you take in the size of the being. _

_ Two heads taller than you, with thick, inky black arms.  _

_ And when you catch a glimpse of his face, you’re rooted into place by the piercing red of his.  _

_ His.  _

_ You furrow your brows. You didn’t even know what this...being was, but you had known it was a he. But before you could think more on that, you're startled by when the being starts to move towards the goop towards you.  _

_ You want to back away. _

_ You want to back away because you did not know who this was, but you feel hands wrap around your ankles and your breathing grows harsher by the second. _

_ Then everything stops, as the being reaches out with thick claws...you shut your eyes. You’re afraid. You know this, but the feeling feels like a thought, and you wince when the claws trail over your jaw to...gently hold your cheek? _

_ You don’t open your eyes, you can’t, really. But you do reach out, and you do find the beings face so close to yours. His skin is wet, he smells just like a bog would. His flesh sticks to you, not quite goopy but the feel has gooseflesh growing on your arms.  _

_ His thumb brushes against your lips, feather-light, but you lean into his touch and sigh against it.  _

_ “I’ve missed you, my little iris.” _

* * *

* * *

You feel nervous when you jolt up from your motel bed, and it’s not just the wetness of your still damp hair. 

Holding in your breath, you don’t open your eyes. Because when it all comes down to it, you’re tired of the dread you feel now. It makes you sick to your stomach, sitting in a lump in your chest. It makes your heart hurt.

It makes you want to cry, to go home.

The dread started at the first hotel you had stayed at, meeting those  _ people _ , then the almost non-stop driving and it branching to the strange gas-station, the electricity, and the almost realistic dream involving whatever  _ that _ had been.

Sighing, you really did have half a mind to call your mother and drive all the way back home.

The thought made your already queasy stomach pang, which made your thoughts switch to the subject of food. Cheap, unhealthy food. Hopefully there was something near-by, and then you would do your best to make it to your Aunts’ house. 

But...you shake your head once to fully clear the sleep from it, when you hear a sharp creak.

Head shooting up so fast it made your eyes throb, but you barely notice it with a man crouched on the dresser. 

The small t.v. that had originally been on it was set off to the side, almost about to fall off all together if it weren’t for the mans’ lanky arm resting on top of it. 

Feeling bile edge at the back of your throat, you watch as his head gives a quick twitch, before he slunk down from the dresser all together. His limbs aren’t supposed to do that. His body isn’t supposed to do that. It's as if he's more liquid than human and god he’s looking at you as if you were a spec of dirt. You want to scream, but quickly swallow it.

He looks at you, peeling back the layers of your skin as if he were a surgeon. 

Scream. Why aren’t you screaming? Why aren’t you moving?

Why can’t you move?

His eyes are inches before yours, and you see nothing in them. Just two inky black mirrors as his breath fans over your face. It reeks of rot; of blood and flesh and his teeth are as white as can be. ‘Please scream. Please let me scream.’ You think to yourself, trying to get your jaw to work, but you can only manage a whimper. It makes him smile, a too wide smile as he leans in and licks a stripe up the side of your face.

Then he speaks.

His voice is not human, the static and growls; the hisses and the spit drying on your face isn’t helping the fact that his voice is the definition of nails on a chalkboard. 

The...man seems to be waiting for an answer, but he cocks his head again and laughs. It is a small thing, but you can see the way his teeth shift in his mouth, hear the way they click. His fangs are those of canines, but it doesn't stop him from leaning down to graze your neck with them. “Li-t-tle iris, s-o fa-r from ho-me.” He sings, but the hiss from his throat startles you into moving backwards. The man snarls, making a move as to lunge, but hisses again as smoke curls up from his hands. 

Your own throat makes a clicking sound, a high-pitched whine, as you back up into the table by the bed, hand reaching out behind you for something to defend yourself from him. 

But before you or he can make a move, a startling crash has the both of you looking towards the window

Only to see what looked like a cross between an xenomorph and a cougar. 

The man lets out a low growl, eyes thankfully moving from yours as he makes a move towards his new opponent. 

And it seems luck if on your side, because he doesn’t get very far before the cougar lunges and starts to try to tear out his throat. Unfortunately, your body still doesn’t want to budge, but you can manage to move one of your arms back until it makes contact with the lamp on top. 

Keeping an eye on the pair as they fight, you twist at the waist to grab the lamp; and just as the cougar is on its’ back and the man looks as if he is about to go in for the kill, you bring the lamp harshly down onto the back of his head. It makes a sickening crunch, and it goes straight to your stomach, which had already been in knots from the start. 

The bile almost comes up, but the man slumps forwards and the cougar moves away from him and gives you a grateful look. 

“You need to go home.” The voice that sounds out in the room is harsh, as if having difficulty to speak, and you look down at the cougar who has come up and brushes its body against the front of your legs. “Grab what you need and go. I’ll make sure they don’t get far, but you have to go now.” It says, voice urgent. You find yourself nodding, leaving his side to grab your purse and make your way to the door. 

You only look back to grab the motel keys, but even then the cougar is pushing at you.

“Leave them. They are near and I don’t need you getting caught in the crossfire. Go!” Nodding once more, you drop the keys and make a hurried beeline for your car. It thankfully remains untouched, but that means little when the cougar looks at you from the doorway of your motel room. It looks at you with an unchanging face, but you can easily detect the concern from him as you get in the car and quickly start it. 

Just as you do so, a pitch-black corvette speeds to the motel, and you’re surprised that it doesn’t hit anyone. You take that as your cue and pull out of the driveway, hearing the crunch of something and a feral screech. Looking in your rearview mirror, you see the cougar taking someone down, before being thrown onto the car with another crunch.

Stepping on the gas pedal, you speed away without another look back. 


End file.
